Sunday, March 04, 2007

I'm too young for a mid-life crisis. Universe willing, at 37, I'm hopefully not near the halfway mark of my life. That said, the universe has apparently decided to grant me a second adolescence.

And what should be the hallmark for youth's second coming? A sports car? A boob job? A face plumped with collagen and smoothed with Botox? Going back to school and hanging out in crappy apartments with people half my age, discussing Richard Rorty over cheap beer and weak merlot? Quitting my job, running off to Europe and deciding to take up painting?

Some of these things I find more acceptable than others, but apparently the universe has something else in mind for me.

Braces.

Yes. That's right. I need braces. The universe gave me a pass on this the first time around, as certain key people felt it was more important to argue over who should pay than to take action. And as a geeky, chubby child, really, that was fine with me. Why add insult to injury? My teeth were straight and even, their only flaw a small gap between my front teeth. But it seems now, after all these years of giving me no trouble, my bottom teeth are partaking in a game of Twister, turning and shifting, collapsing inward and thereby changing my bite, causing my upper teeth to flare outward ever so slightly...for now.

And so I have to visit the orthodontist in the next few weeks to see about the braces I will likely have to wear for a year-and-a-half to two years. For the record, I'm still chubby and geeky. And I'm dreading this as much as any thirteen-year-old girl would. I'm trying to think of the payoff: the second half of life with beautiful, straight, gap-less teeth.

Thursday, March 01, 2007

"Sanguine indicates the personality of an individual with the temperament of blood, the season of spring (wet and hot), and the element of air. A person who is sanguine is generally optimistic, cheerful, even-tempered, confident, rational, popular, and fun-loving. They can be daydreamy to the point of not accomplishing anything and impulsive, acting on whims in an unpredictable fashion. Sanguines usually have a lot of energy, but have a problem finding a way to direct the energy. This also describes the manic phase of a bipolar disorder."

Here's what I have to say about Sanguine, the perfume from Keiko Mecheri:

First, the notes differ depending on where you look. Luscious Cargo mentions blood orange, spices, and white florals. The Keiko Mecheri site (and they should know, right?) lists blood orange rind, petit grain, and musk. I find the last sentence of the Wikipedia definition most interesting, because it reflects this fragrance perfectly: manic or bipolar.

The image I get in my head while wearing Sanguine is that picture of the woman they always show students in Psych 101, or the HR shows to employees when they conduct any sort of training at all, the drawing that appears to be an old, witchy looking woman or a beautiful young lady, depending on how you look at it. Sanguine has a couple of personalities: one is an industrial-strength citrus air freshener for commercial use, while the other is a spicy deep citrus with undertones of white florals...in other words, a perfume.

I'm a huge fan of neroli or orange blossom in a fragrance, and so the blood orange note in this scent was intriguing to me. It's quite potent in this mix, overly so, and I'm guessing it's the oil from the rind, that bitterness that sometimes permeates the lighter side of citrus, that adds to the industrial feel of this scent. It's definitely orange, orange with a large stick. Yet sometimes it moves from industrial air freshener into candied rind (overly sweet) and then into a deeper spice I wish would stick around. I definitely detect a white floral element in this, even if the Keiko Mecheri site doesn't list it. The most depressing part of this is that if this part of the scent would stick around, it could give Serge Lutens Fleur d'Oranger a run for its money, or at least be its musky counterpart. Catching those whiffs is like catching a glimpse of the beautiful woman in the picture for just a second--when you're fixated too much on the old woman, the beautiful lady refuses to appear.